My Angel
by Dawn of Chaos
Summary: Despite the hell of life creeping up from every corner, one night he runs upon the one he was never supposed to meet face to face. Now, thrust together, everything comes full circle.


**My Angel**

x.X.x.X.x.X.x

The young teen huddled on his bed glares at the backpack in front of him. His parents had died and the only family left was that of his cousins. The only ones left that would dare to take him in. He knew his Uncle was going to try to get him to come live with them, if only to take the money that would be bestowed upon him in three years, on his eighteenth birthday. A disgruntled and incoherent mumble escapes him as he presses his forehead to his knees.

The walls around him are bare, his posters rolled up and put away in a place he can't recall, probably thrown out during the move by his Uncle. His suitcases sit by the door, proving that the closet is indeed still unused. He hates living in this personal hell. He can't do a thing to stop the hings that go on.

His elder cousin takes the abuse, saving the younger from the destructive rage of his Uncle. But he knows his cousin is hurting, the bruises evident when not covered by clothing, infuriating him further that he's not only stuck here, but he's powerless. He's been asked, pleaded with, and begged not to say a word. So he hasn't and he won't.

Anger boils in his belly as he clenches his fist, the rage itching to get out in one form or another. But, just as quickly as it had come, the emotion dies away, the feeling of a hand on his shoulder drawing his attention to the side. Yet, crimson orbs see nothing but the wall, no human in sight.

He merely shrugs, standing up and walking out of the room; accustomed to the lingering touches, whispers, and eyes that circulate around him in times of doubt, self-pity, and hate. Each time making him forget the negative emotions until another time.

x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x

Thunder shakes the foundations of houses and the children that lie sleeping in their beds. Lightning splits the navy sky and strikes down upon where it happens to set its sights. Yami Ketsueki strode down those slick and dangerous streets, determined to get home without becoming too wet, that objective simply being wishful thinking. His fingers curl inside the pockets of his ebony jacket as the hood flaps aimlessly against the sides of his face, golden bangs, that frame the sharp angles of his face, flailing in the harsh wind as well. Yami's phone vibrates in his pants pocket, the dark melody unheard from under the crackling of the thunder.

Yami keeps on though, head bowed and brows drawn together. His lips draw into a scowl as he stumbles to the side, weary from the long walk from where he had met his cousin moments earlier. He should have shoved his pride aside and should have taken the ride he was offered. No. Yami just had to smirk and proclaim that, of course, he could walk home, that it wouldn't kill him.

_'At this rate, it just might._' he thought sourly as he ducks into an alley and under the eave of a building. Leaning against the brick wall, Yami pushes the hood back, running his fingers through his unique hair. It spikes up into the form of a star; raven hair tipped with deep crimson, while golden blonde sparks through it. Bright, red eyes widen as the lightning breaks through the sky once more, giving light to the shadows at the far end of the alley.

Milky skin is drained of color and splotched with crimson. A small arm is curled around a fallen garbage can, while the other pushes against the ground. White jeans cling to thin, short legs. Rips and slashes run down one side, a dull pink staining the material thanks to the rain diluting the color. Large rips are torn into the back of the thin shirt, which sticks to the young man's petite frame, shoulder blades visible as he tries to climb to his feet.

Expression softening, Yami darts forward, barely catching the boy in time as he had dropped back down to the ground. His boots splash in the puddles spotting the ground as Yami tries to adjust the boy's weight, moving the small arm to fall over his shoulders. The young boy's spiked, raven hair droops with rain, the locks tipped with a deep violet and flaxen strands pointing down to shape his cherubic face. Yami bites his lip, struggling to keep the sopping wet boy up off the ground, his body practically dead weight at this point. Nonetheless, he has a feeling in his gut, one that stabs at him unrelentingly.

He has to take this young man home with him...or he'll die here.

Despite the goal trying to take over his being, Yami's mind is relentless in trying to persuade him to leaving the boy on the nearest hospital's doorstep. But he knows he can't carry him all the way to the emergency room, the only way to go is the rest of the block to his apartment.

With determination set on his countenance like words in stone, Yami scoops his arm down and under the boy's legs, proceeding to literally carrying him. It would only take longer to try and get the boy to walk anyway. So he sets off, the stride painfully slow, yet workable considering the situation. The rain plasters his hair to his face, eyes concentrating dead ahead on the steps leading up into a large apartment building, so that he doesn't see the dark lashes flutter against skin kissed by the moon.

x.X.x.X.x.X.x

A sigh of relief slips past Yami's lips as he leans against his door, locked tightly in hopes of keeping strangers out, besides the one in his arms. His feet squeak as damp socks slide against the leather of his boots, the sound following him as he makes his way to the room at the far end of the hall.

The walls are bare, no pictures or such telling the story of his family or life. A small TV sits on an equally tiny table, a worn, gray couch in front of it. The blinds, stained with yellow spots, are pulled shut, dust lingering on the edges. The light gray carpet, just as stained as the white walls and blinds, no longer fluffs back up after feet stampede over it, permanently matted down after so many years of neglect. Which is why Yami doesn't so much as discard his shoes, letting them leave wet footprints wherever he may tread.

Arms growing weak, Yami pushes himself with the last of his energy to get to the open door at the end. Ambling into the room, he tries his best to not just drop the boy on the bed, not particularly caring that he's wet and bloody. Yami gently places the poor soul down onto the mattress, not that it's that great to begin with. His slim fingers reach over, brushing back the strands which had gotten in the way of the boy's face. Crimson eyes drift away for a second, only to return to meet deep pools of violet, as clear and gentle as amethyst.

"Y-You're awake?"

The boy merely pushes himself up into a sitting position, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed with a slight wince and a crease of the brow. Seeing the worry in Yami's eyes, the boy smiles, "I'm fine."

Yami takes a step back as the boy shoves himself to his feet, legs wobbling as he does. Tipping in the opposite direction of the bed, Yami does the only he can think of. As he steps closer, the diminutive weight of the boy manages to knock him backwards, gravity yanking them down, hard, to the floor. Eyes shut due to the pain rocketing back and forth through his skull, Yami only opens them at a feather-like caress along his cheek. "You're anything but fine."

"Are you okay? I made you hit your head pretty hard." the boy asks shyly, a light tint of pink coloring his full cheeks. A curt nod answers the question as Yami props himself up, a strong arm wrapped around the boy's waist. "Thank you for...saving me."

A smirk curls a corner of Yami's lips. "No big deal. But, what did you need saving _from_?" The seemingly young man fidgets slightly, attempting once more to stand on his feet, Yami helping him to save another tumble for them both. Seeing the clear discomfort the question creates, Yami redirects it elsewhere, deciding that it doesn't matter. A good deed is a good deed. "I can get you some dry clothes. Well, both of us dry clothes really."

A sheepish nod and a calm seating on the bed suffices, sending Yami to ravage his drawers and closet, seeing as how the young man appears to be close to his size. Plucking two of each from the different stations of clothing, Yami walks the short distance back to the boy's sight. Handing one of the piles of folded clothes to him, he gives an encouraging smile. "Are you okay to change?" A simple nod of the head. "Well, I'll just change in the bathroom. Yell if you need me."

As his hand reaches for the doorknob to the bathroom, the quiet voice speaks up from behind him. "Yuugi...my name's Yuugi."

Without looking over his shoulder, Yami opens the slim, wooden door. "Be careful Yuugi." he says lightly, loving the way the others name rolls off his tongue.

x.X.x.X.x.X.x

In less than a few minutes, Yami's changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, opening the door to see a particularly cute sight. For, the shirt he'd given Yuugi appeared to be far to big for his tiny frame, yet he still couldn't seem to find the arm holes. Chuckling lightly, Yami walks over, to assist him...but stops dead in his tracks as his eyes fall onto Yuugi's unmarred skin.

Giving up on the piece of clothing, Yuugi pulls it away, head tilting to the side at Yami's stunned gaze. "Something wrong?"

A finger rises to point at him, melding with the rest of his fingers as he takes the last step forward, running those fingers down Yuugi's back, not noticing the shiver that his touch creates. "You were bleeding...I...thought you were at least." Yami's eyes roam, quickly taking in the scars angling away from Yuugi's spine, the shapes of perfect crescent moons. "What's going on?"

"I-I'm fine really! I just...took a wrong turn is all. Don't worry a-about me at all Yami."

Crimson eyes snap over to lock with light purple brimming with tears. "I never told you my name." The statement causes those tears to roll down Yuugi's face, his hands coming up to cover them, but before he can manage that, Yami has a hold of his wrists. "What's going on Yuugi?"

Large, doe eyes appear vulnerable as he lowers them from Yami's penetrating gaze. "I-I wanted to s-see you again. For y-years I've been w-watching over y-you."

"Stalking me?"

Yuugi shakes his head violently to the sides. "N-N-No not that! I..."

"Sorry." A soft sigh runs over dry lips as a shaky hand rubs Yuugi's back, "Go ahead and finish."

"On m-my way, I got c-cornered by some...some..." Yuugi's mind searches for the word, not wanting to use the one his heart already knows to well. "...some demons." A sob breaks free as Yuugi doubles over, curling in on himself.

Mind reeling with that tidbit of information, Yami only leans forward to pull Yuugi backwards and onto his lap, letting the boy rest his head against his chest. He lets his fingers drift through Yuugi's hair, the only thing on his mind being the need to calm him down. Heart aching for the beautiful boy in his lap, Yami curls his arms securely around Yuugi, the sign of the want to protect seeming to radiate off of Yami. Coos of nothing soothe Yuugi's inner turmoil just enough, the dried tear tracks evident on his face.

Yami had never once thought of, much less believed, in angels and demons. His life never called for his mind to ponder of those beings. Yami simply reasoned that even though they didn't need to be seen to be believed, he was far too busy to worry about it. Between jobs trying to better his life, the supernatural was always the last thing on his mind...except for tonight.

Fingers curl into the white, cotton shirt adorning Yami's lightly muscled frame. "...They...ripped off my wings." Yuugi's voice, normally soft and optimistic, seems almost hollow as the words slide off his tongue, those words being the things making the situation all to real. "Without them...I can't...go back."

Trying to avoid coddling him, Yami can't help but give him a light squeeze from the embrace, "You'll be okay Yuugi. I'm sure there's a way-"

Yuugi doesn't even let him finish, the sharp tilt of the head catching him off guard. Tears still shine in his bright eyes, not so much as a hint of dark purple lingering in them. "But, I don't _want_ to go back. Unless..._you_ want me to leave."

'_I don't even know you though_.' is what Yami really wants to say, what his mind pokes at him to utter. Yet his heart tells a different story, reminding him of all the times he's fallen down in life, the light of the next day being to dim to see. While at the same time, in those darkest hours, he remembers the comforting presence; overlooking and protecting and loving with every glance. A memory of all the times he's looked over his shoulder, expecting to see a figure there, but only seeing an empty space. A longing to touch the being responsible for him continuing on through life. '_Gifts come in many forms._' is the thought that shoves its way to the forefront of his mind, deciding it all then and there.

"I wouldn't dare let you leave me now that you're here." Tilting Yuugi's chin up with his thumb, Yami leans down that miniscule distant, lightly ghosting his lips over Yuugi's. "I love you my angel."

**x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x**

**Tis for Xx. Loveless-Romantic .xX (a.k.a HikaritheLight on dA)  
>She made me this adorable, to die for, snuggly Kuriboh that warms my heart every single time I see it. So in return, it's only fair to give as well. :D Not to mention I was stoked to get back into writing Yu-Gi-Oh! with my absence of...oh maybe two years from it almost.<br>She wanted Puzzleshipping and I can't blame her, are these two not cute?  
><strong>**  
>Crap...I'm rambling. Anyways. Hope you enjoyed anyway!~~ <strong>


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